


I'm Just a Touch Away

by tbazzsnow (Artescapri)



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Baz's reaction to Simon's tail wrapping around his leg for the first time, Fluff, Gap Filler, M/M, Soft Boys, based on a tumblr prompt, in between Christmas and when Penny and Simon move to London, short fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:53:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24311593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artescapri/pseuds/tbazzsnow
Summary: Baz visits Simon at Penny's just a few weeks after the events at the White Chapel. Actions sometimes speak louder than words. A soft, tender, gap filler moment between the boys, based on a prompt from Tumblr.
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 20
Kudos: 200





	I'm Just a Touch Away

**Author's Note:**

> Anon prompt from Tumblr: "I don’t know if you’re taking prompts but if you are — what about Baz’s reaction to the first time Simon wraps his tail around his thigh?"  
> here is a short little fic for that prompt.
> 
> come say hi on tumblr! I'm @carryonsimoncarryonbaz! https://www.tumblr.com/blog/carryonsimoncarryonbaz

**Baz**

This is the third weekend in a row I’ve come to see Snow. Bunce has an air mattress in her room for me now. I should be mortified but I don’t care. I feel like I can breathe again when I’m near him. 

Our room at Watford has never felt so suffocating, not even when Snow’s smoky magic would fill every crevice. 

I’d give anything to lose myself in the dizzying intensity of that again. I’d give anything for Simon to have his magic back. 

_Anything._

I’ve got all the space to myself but the walls still feel as if they are closing in on me. I miss the rumpled sight of him, that smoky scent, the snuffly way he breathes at night, the incessant rustling of his bed coverings. 

I leave our window open now. 

I follow Bunce to her room and take an instant to soak in the sight of Snow. He’s curled up on the bed, face to the wall, wings tucked in close, his tail curled on the blanket. 

It’s that kind of day then.

Bunce bumps my shoulder, nods her head at Snow before turning away to head back down the corridor. I get a raised-eyebrow glare from over her shoulder as I linger in the doorway. “Go on!” she hisses. 

And then she’s gone.

The first moments are always awkward. All I want to do is take him in my arms but I hesitate. 

‘Hello, love.” I cross the room to perch on the edge of the bed. 

Snow’s tail thumps once as his wings flutter and then he's up, scooting across the bed until he’s seated next to me. 

Thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder, his hand palm up on his leg.

I take it, slide my chilled fingers between his warm ones. 

That hasn’t changed. He’s as warm as he ever was. 

I rub my thumb over his, savor the way his grip tightens , the weight of his head as it comes to rest on my shoulder.

“Hey.” 

Snow doesn't answer, just presses closer. 

I close my eyes and breathe him in. Smoke and sweat, grass and moss. It’s not quite the same but it’s no less dear. (There’s a hint of vanilla today.) (He must be using Priya’s shampoo.) 

I’ve thought about this. What I’m about to say. Bunce and I have texted endlessly about this very thing. The spell for his wings will work. it’s just getting him to agree. 

Snow’s not left the house. He’s barely left Bunce’s room. 

It’s been a month already.

I know him. At least, I think I still do. I know Snow needs fresh air and sunshine, open vistas and space. The thought of him isolating himself in this square box of a room _hurts_. 

Snow can’t be contained by four walls. He never has been.

“I thought . . . I thought you might like to take a . . . a drive, maybe go out for a bit?” I stumble over my words then rush through the last few in one breath.

Snow shrugs. I feel the lift of his shoulder against mine, the flare of his wings.

“The sun’s out today,” I add. Another shrug. 

There’s a thump against my back and then Snow’s tail slides into the space between us. There's a rasp at it shifts against the bedclothes and then the firm weight of it slides under my leg, wraps around my thigh, the spade-like end of it coming to rest between our legs. 

My heart is pounding. The heat of his tail sears me even through the fabric of my trousers. 

I’ve kissed Snow. I’ve slept in his arms. I've held him as he mourned the loss of his friend, his mentor, his magic. 

None of those moments felt as intimate as this. 

His grip on my hand and my thigh tightens in tandem. “I’d rather stay here, if that’s all right.” Snow says.

I bring my other hand to rest on the curve of tail that’s crossing over my leg. It’s rough and warm and there’s a tingle in my skin when I make contact. 

He’s still magic. I don’t know how to tell him that. But he still is.

**Author's Note:**

> title from the song A Touch Away by Deep Purple
> 
> Cherry trees and rosebuds and talk about staying in bed. It seemed to have some Simon vibes.


End file.
